


Dragon Slayers

by OblivionGuard



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OblivionGuard/pseuds/OblivionGuard
Kudos: 6





	Dragon Slayers

Everyone has good days.   
Everyone has bad days.  
But today? Today has been an absolute fucking nightmare. Let me take you back to a mere few hours ago, when the sun was shining, the birds were tweeting, and I was enjoying a relaxing cart ride into Helgen. Helgen was a nice little town filled with nice little people, all of whom were about to die. Me being one of them. I was to be executed. Me and a few others, although I wasn’t actually with the others, I just happened to be there. 

The others there were terrorists. Rebels, fighting back against the wrath of the Thalmor who made the worship of their god illegal. There was also a gaged man, Ulfric Stormcloak: leader of the rebellion, said to have murdered the king. Me? I’m not religious. The only things I worship are milk and cheese. I can’t even remember how I got there. They didn’t ask who I was, they just threw me in with the rest of them.

Knowing was the worst part. Just knowing your going to die, that very soon you won’t be thinking or breathing or existing, is perhaps the worst feeling in the world. Knowing makes everything go slower. It makes you look back at your life and realise your life has had no meaning. I was nobody, I would die a nobody, and I would be forgotten. And you know what? That was okay. Very few are lucky enough to choose how they die, so let it be known that I chose. I chose not to run, or to fight, or to cry. I chose to accept this day as my last, and die with a smile on my face.

Then came death, but not at the hands of the executioner. I felt it before anyone else did. It was like how one knows when something is about to happen, or when one is being watched. In could sense it’s presence, feel it almost. Something was watching us from the sky. We all heard it before we saw it, but nobody listened. Nobody would of thought that death would have wings big enough to block out the sun. Nobody would have thought that death would speak with a voice full of fire, with words powerful enough to turn the skies grey and make the ground run red with blood. Death is a dragon, black as night and bigger than the moons, and it is coming for us all. 

I escaped, somehow. I got out and I ran and I ran and I didn’t stop until I made it to another town. This town, Falkreath. So now I’m hiding in the inn trying not to have a mental break down as the evenings events play over and over again in my head. No amount of bashing my head on the table is going to wake me up from this nightmare, but I’ll keep doing it anyway. Unfortunately, the constant attempts at knocking myself out have drawn some unwanted attention. 

“Excuse me madam, are you alright?”

The Imperial. The scrawny blue eyed blonde haired bastard has been eye balling me from the corner of the inn since the moment I walked in. If I don’t answer he’ll go away, that’s usually how this works. 

“Listen, I don’t normally do this but...erm...have you got a moment to talk?”

“Are...are you trying to flirt with me?” I ask, genuinely concerned for both his health and mine. Mine because I think I might be about to drop dead any minute now, and his because if he doesn’t stop talking I’m taking him down with me.

“Flirt? Oh no, that wasn’t my intention, not at all! I simply meant that I...have a proposition for you. Ah, not like that! Oh, can we start again?”

I suppose if I die in front of this guy I won’t be going alone. Will he remember me, and the few minutes we spent together? I move over so he can join me on the bench.

“Right, my name is Lucien Flavius”

———

I wake up, but not in a cart this time. I’m in a bed. It’s not my bed. If I listen I can hear music and chattering. I think I’m still in the inn. I think I passed out. 

“Ah, you’re awake!”

I very nearly shit myself at the sudden loud voice to my left. The Imperial is in my room, on a chair next to my bed. Why is the Imperial in my room?

“Thank the gods, for a moment there I thought you’d died”

I really wish I had. Sitting up is a mistake, because when I do my head starts spinning and my whole body aches in places I didn’t even know I had.

“I got you a room, after you passed out, I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to leave you just lying on the floor. You have an awfully large hole in your head, so I bandaged it for you best I could”

I touch my head and find that I do, in fact, have a piece of blood soaked fabric wrapped around a rather large gaping hole. I can’t tell exactly what caused it, but it feels a similar size to that of an arrow head. It doesn’t feel small enough to go unnoticed, so I suppose the Imperial soldiers saw it but didn’t bother to fix it. It must have happened just before Helgen but I can’t remember.

“And my hands?” I ask, seeing that they too have been wrapped up.

“Oh yes, you had quite a few nasty burns.”

I leave my head alone, I can only feel that one anyway, and free my shaking hands. Almost all the fur on my hands has gone, leaving nothing but sore skin and blisters. I don’t think I’ve ever hated the sight of my own hands until now. I try to re wrap them but my fingers are too sore and the cloth is too fiddly, so the Imperial does it for me, as carefully and as gently as he can.

“There was a dragon”

I say it without thinking about it, as if I’m alone and taking to myself. Because if I don’t say it, I don’t think even I can believe it.

“It...it was in Helgen. There was supposed to be an execution, that’s why I was there. One of the prisoners helped me escape...I don’t think anyone else made it out”

The Imperial finishes wrapping my hands and looks up at me in disbelief.

“A...dragon? But nobody’s seen a real living dragon for centuries! You’re sure that’s what you saw?”

“You think I’m making this up?”

“No no, if you say you saw a dragon, who am I to argue? But...don’t you think if there’s a dragon on the loose people should know about it?”

I shrug my shoulders and lie back down. What does he expect me to do about it? 

“I don’t think the Jarl of this hold would be of much help, but the one in Whiterun certainly might! After all, his hold is the closest to Helgen. It’s likely in the most danger. We could go now if you’re feeling up to it? Or we could go in the morning?”

“We? There is no we”

“Oh, of course not, but Skyrim is no place for a milk drinker like me. That’s why I came and spoke to you earlier you see. You seemed much more aquatinted with the less savoury side of Skyrim, although I suppose now I know why”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I’m here on an expedition of sorts, and I was rather hoping that you would let me...tag along?”

“What? No way! I don’t do babysitting!”

“Oh, absolutely not! I just need someone who can...keep me alive? And I will of course pay you most handsomely for putting up with me! You won’t even know I’m there. Unless of course...you can’t help me?”

“Hey, don’t tell me what I can’t do!”

“I wasn’t-“

“I’m stronger than you! I’m stronger than anyone! You stick with me Lucan. No one is ever going to lay a finger on you whilst I’m here!”

“Lucan? No no, it’s Lucien. Lucien Flavius. And you are?”

“Marlow” I tell him “My name is Marlow”


End file.
